


Dark Chindi

by ToneeStark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, Haunting, Horror, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Occult, Protective Steve Rogers, Psychological Horror, Romance, Spirits, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, Survival Horror, haunted penthouse, stress romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToneeStark/pseuds/ToneeStark
Summary: Tony has been having nightmares... and for good reason.





	Dark Chindi

“ _We don’t deal with the occult… nor do I believe in it.”_

_“What if I told you that they call for you, Stark.”_

_“I wouldn’t believe you. It’s simple. S.I.M.P.L.E. Ghosts…spirits…whatever...do not exist.”_

_“They do. And they will come for you. They will come for you when they are finished with me.”_

______

The lab was quiet, save for a few moans. DUM-E and U were shut down, snoozing while their master did the same. The mechanic laid face first on his desk, drool collecting on papers below his hands. Every minute or so his shoulders would shift, and a moan would escape his parted lips. The cries echoed through the empty space.

Tony woke with a start, breathing heavily and with sweat beaded up in the worry lines on his tan forehead. The house was empty besides him, the norm now that he had become Iron Man. Rarely did he bring women or men to his Malibu home anymore now that they could be considered collateral. He tried to minimize the people that died because of him… this desire never turned out quite like he wanted though. People always died because of him and the guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.

This dream had been plaguing him for months now. It was a dream based on reality. The man had pulled Tony aside after a press conference and revealed that he was being haunted by ghosts. As a scientist, Tony had dismissed the man altogether, but the last sentence that Mr. Likart had spoken to him, struck a nerve that he couldn’t satiate. Try as he might, Tony couldn’t forget the conversation. A conversation that he had with an individual who was now dead. Potentially because of Tony.

The headlines had been mysterious, but fortunately Tony always had access to more resources than the normal person. He had hacked into the local police station’s records and brought up the reports outlining Mr. Likart’s death. Bold letters lined the page stating, CONFIDENTIAL, UNDISCLOSED, UNDETERMINED, UNKNOWN. The report Tony had just skimmed over- it was the associated pictures that made his blood turn cold.

Pretty soon after his eyes glanced over the grotesque blood and hollowed out eye holes, Tony fell to his side, stomach guarded by his left arm, and emptied what little there was of the contents from his stomach.

Mr. Likart’s house looked normal enough. Three bedrooms. Lots of curio cabinets with ceramic kittens and puppies propped up in various positions. Fake flowers and plants dotted the 90’s-esque oak, glass, and brass furniture and an ugly, floral patterned rug was stationed beneath the claw foot dining room table. A sewing machine sat near the farthest wall, bobbins and thread scattered around unceremoniously on the floor.  It was a normal house for an older man and woman, stuck in the same town for thirty something years as they raised their family and subsequently went into retirement.

It was normal aside from the bodies and blood and limbs and teeth and organs.

Mr. Likart was in the corner by the sewing machine. There was a reason for the disarray of sewing materials. His arm was twisted above his head in an unnatural fashion, fingers tied to the machine by the needle that penetrated them. Blood spider webbed its way down his arm. His neck was spun around like something from a horror movie and mouth wide open in shock, jaw gaping in a way that looked forced. His eyes were open, but orbitals missing, as blood dripped its way like tears down his cheeks. There were multiple pictures depicting his slaughter. Each one performed the difficult task of making Tony Stark shake with terror.

Mrs. Likart looked no better. She was suspended on the kitchen fan solely by her hair, scalp slowly pulling away from her skull. Her limbs were bent stiffly and strictly against their normal positions; knees bent backwards and elbows snapped in half.

Tony’s hands shook as he tried to click to the next stream of information regarding the case, until, snapping him from his reverie, JARVIS sounded out above him.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is here to see you.”

Tony found himself incapable of speaking and thus waved a lone hand to signal JARVIS to send his friend away.

“Sir, you have not been out of the house for two weeks, nor socialized with anyone. I do think it would be benefic-“

“No.” Tony croaked, stumbling over to his desk chair and falling limply into it, face coming to rest in the palm of his hand as he tried to erase the images that played in his overzealous, tortured mind.

JARVIS tried again, British accent echoing in the halls. “Sir, maybe Captain Rogers can dissolve any mystery behind your latest obsession…”

“NO.” Tony screamed this time as he went into a full panic attack. His chest seized, arms curled around his body, and shoulders began quaking.

“You are having a panic attack, Sir. I will let Captain Rogers in now to administer medical help, per order execution 564.”

“I SAID-“ a pause as he gasped for air “-NO.”

Tony began counting in his head to calm himself, a simple technique learned from his guru in India. He counted 97 seconds exactly until Steve jogged down the steps to his lab, tapped on the glass, and, after a relief click of the lock, opened the door and slid in.

“Tony, tony, tony… what’s going on?” Steve stood next to him in a denim jacket lined with Sherpa, a ball cap, and dark-faded jeans. His hand immediately went to the mechanic’s chest and started palming the Arc reactor as if it were the source of Tony’s trauma.

“He is having a panic attack, Captain Rogers. This was all triggered by his dre-“

“POWER DOWN JARVIS.” Tony heaved and subsequently shoved Steve’s hand off of his chest. He twirled around in his chair, facing away from the super soldier and steepled his hands together, head at the center.

Steve could hear light murmurs, and, after a few minutes, Tony’s breathing slowed, shoulders hunching forward in exhausted defeat.

There were a few moments of silence between the two men. Steve leaned back, butt resting on the edge of Tony’s desk, arms and ankles crossed in stubborn concern.

Tony was the first to speak, “I am fine. Just a minor panic attack… watching the news. That’s all. What do you want?”

Steve was still staring at the back of Tony’s head, taking a second to admire the man’s dark brown coif. “It’s been weeks since I have seen you. You canceled our hang out last week with like, five minutes notice, and none of the others have seen you either… I think what I want, is to know what the hell is up with you man?” Steve reached out to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, but the other man shrugged him off in response.

Tony’s head had turned briefly around at first, interest piqued by Steve’s choice of ‘vulgar’ words. “I’ve been busy designing new tech is all.”

“Tony…I-uhm. Missed you last week. Please… talk to me.”

The genius’s eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth set in a thin line. The Captain and him had been meeting together a lot. Steve had requested they watch movies he had never seen, or played board games, sometimes even video games. Tony had always been up for their sessions, but lately it had seemed a little close for him. He didn’t want to get close to anyone so soon after Pepper. The closeness had felt awkward and bizarre to Tony… the dreams and his seclusion were not the only reason he had canceled.

Still, if he was being honest with himself he _had_ missed Steve too. He missed the jokes and the laughter, the wrestling over Monopoly money, and the little jolt he got when he brushed arms with Steve while watching Avatar. These feelings…Tony disregarded them as his typical desire for human connection after being physically ignored for so long.

The mechanic coughed and swiveled his chair around to face Steve. “I’ve got nothing to say, Rogers. JARVIS, power on. Please escort Captain Rogers out.” It was short, succinct, and to the point. JARVIS remained quiet.

Steve’s face turned bright red, but not out of shame or embarrassment… out of anger. He sighed and shifted deeper into his position on Tony’s desk. “No. I am not going anywhere until you talk to me. If I have to stay here for days, so be it. You are gonna have to get in the suit and forcefully remove me… and then you are going to have one ticked off super soldier on your hands buckaroo.”

The lab was quiet at the standoff aside from the whirring of multiple tech gadgets and the occasional _ping_ signaling a new e-mail in Tony’s inbox. Finally, Tony sighed and looked up at Steve’s determined blue eyes.

“You know it’s impossible for you to intimidate when you sound like a soccer dad…”

Steve smirked a little and raised from his stationary position on the desk, striding over towards Tony with one hand out.

“Let’s have J order some dinner and we can talk about what’s been going on with you.”

Tony took Steve’s outstretched hand and nervously glanced at the ground, “alright, but you are going to think I am insane.”

“Oh no worries! I’ve thought that since the day I met you!” Steve slapped Tony firmly in between his shoulder blades and guided him through the glass doors and up the stairs.

Tony’s basement was quiet after their departure. There was slight movement of some papers on his desk and the desk chair that should have been stationary at this point, continued its slow spiral. The light’s flickered and blinked off once the two were out of sight.

____

“JARVIS isn’t responding to me…” Steve, drying his hands on the bathroom hand towel, leaned out of the powder room door and eyeballed a clearly stumped Tony.

“Maybe he’s mad because you yelled at him.”

“He has a lot of personality but not _that_ much. He doesn’t really get offended that easily. I should go back down and take a look and-“

“Nope.” Steve strode from the bathroom, wringing his hands to warm them from the ice-cold water that had streamed over them moments before. “Look, we can cook something up here. You can survive one night without JARVIS. You need a _break_.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Tony’s face wrinkled up as his eyebrows nestled closely to the bridge of his nose. “He’s the only thing securing this place. Without him anything-anyone can access the house and I can’t… I can’t be without that sense of security.” Tony rambled on, clearly disturbed, and started making grand gestures with his hands as if the movement would suddenly bring his automated butler back to life.

Steve, for the hundredth time since he had gotten to Tony’s, looked at him in confusion and concern. “Tones… what is going on? Don’t bullshit me either.”

“That’s the second cuss word you’ve used tonight, that’s what’s wrong.”

“ _Tony…_ ”

“Alright… alright. Can we sit down, uhm, over by that wall please?”

The untrained eye wouldn’t have noticed, but Steve, master tactician that he was, noticed that Tony was pointing to the only corner of the room that wasn’t adjacent to the ocean-view glass panels.

“You want to sit in the corner?”

“Yes daddy, I’ve been bad.” Tony sarcastically bit back, using his wit to hide his true feelings. He watched as Steve’s ear helices turned bright red.

Steve coughed and opened his palm in gesture for Tony to lead the way to their corner while also nabbing two fluffy pillows from the couch. On arrival to what was, apparently, Tony’s safe spot, he tossed the cushions onto the floor and plopped down on the purple one opposite the corner. Tony looked around briefly before sitting with his back facing the right angle.

“Spill.” Steve looked like an over grown child as he criss-crossed his legs.

“Well you know how I have repeating dreams sometimes?” Steve nodded, “Well… I am having them about this conversation that I had with this old man…” Tony took an hour and relayed to Steve his conversation with Mr. Likart and the traumatic events that followed with the man’s untimely and gruesome death.

Steve kept a passive and uncritical face the whole time, nodding and tilting his head when required. When Tony finally finished, he was out of breath and his whole body was shaking.

“I just can’t get the thoughts out of my head… I truly feel that something is coming to get me and I am-“He paused as if unwilling to proceed with his train of though.

“Scared.” Steve finished for him.

Tony’s breath came out in a relieved woosh before he relaxed, shoulders falling and neck muscles releasing. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I sound like a nut… but I am terrified, Steve.”

“I mean, after everything that I’ve been through, I wouldn’t rule out the occult. There is a God that leads the good, so it is likely that there is a big bad leading the bad and that sometimes, those bad things come to this world.”

Tony blinked at him. “Okay I said I was scared not that I was believing in God and religion all of a sudden.”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “Tony, it’s going to be okay. What would help? Do you want me to call a priest tomorrow?”

“Would that help?” Tony seemed ashamed that he was even considering it.

“I’m not really sure… but it probably wouldn’t hurt and may even ease your nerves! I’ll stay the night on the couch to keep you company with J gone and then in the morning we’ll pretend to be Catholic and enlist some help. For now, let’s make some food.”

Tony smiled contentedly and looked down at his hands a moment, thankful for the super soldier. He glanced up, wanting to look into Steve’s comforting blue eyes but instead his gaze was drawn over the man’s left shoulder.

Tony’s mouth gaped in horror. A scream built into his chest, but the muscles of his throat were so tight that it couldn’t penetrate his mouth. He couldn’t breathe, move, or blink. He could only stare at the distorted face staring back at him.

The lights in the penthouse snapped off and the only light was from the overlooked city several miles away.

______

“Oh, bah.” Steve stood up and walked a short distance to the window. “Do you have an electrical breaker or some complicated piece of tech that no one can figure out but you?” Steve huffed in a light laugh, face falling very slowly as he realized Tony was unresponsive.

Steve, serum not quite giving him the full ability to see in the dark, pulled out his phone and hit the screen to turn on the flash light. “Tony?” he brought the phone up to the corner where the mechanic had sat.

The corner was empty save for what appeared to be a small child, crying. It was a girl, bleach blonde hair falling over her face and bony shoulders. She rocked herself back and forth slowly, face hidden from view.

Steve blinked, obviously confused but concern and paternal instincts flooded through him as he walked closer. “Hey, what’s going on?” He stepped towards her and a low whine sounded out with his first step.

Steve stopped, flashlight still beaming into the occupied corner.

The whine sounded again as the child raised her head, eyes a pale white, button nose in the center of her face. She was a cute girl save for the missing jaw and pale tongue that flopped from the back of her throat and lopped along her throat. Blood caked down her front, staining the white slip dress that she wore.

The beam of the flashlight was now shaking as Steve tried to comprehend what he was looking at. His mouth opened and closed as his eyes narrowed at the horror-inducing image.

One of the girl’s arms was outstretched into the dark and Steve trailed the flashlight along the pale stick-like apparatus until he saw, one by one, eight bony fingers grasping a humanoid neck. Two of her fingers dug into their upper cheeks, blood pooling from the stabbed flesh.

Tony struggled as his feet dangled above the ground, gasping for air as the knife-like fingers dug into his throat and cheekbones. His dark brown eyes begged Steve to help him.

While Steve stood in shock, the child suddenly screamed bloody murder and chucked Tony's body over Steve like a ragdoll. The mechanic landed beyond the couch with a sick thud.

Steve braced himself for an expected impact from the demon, arms folding in front of himself protectively, but nothing ever came. He opened his eyes one at a time and aimed his light back into the corner.

It was empty.


End file.
